Utopia
by yeyavailability
Summary: Ryou wants to bring his fantasy world into reality. However, paradise is never the same for everyone. AU, violent descriptions


Yeah, I just keep spawning these things. There are so much ideas I can start new rather than continue. I can only apologize. Can't help it.

There will be BxR in the future. Very, very future. I don't believe in two second relationships.

Warning: Not beta'd. Don't have one. What a sad life.

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_1 - looking so good with this knife_

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Ryou Bakura was a good observer.

He could see the students around the classroom and everything that they were doing wrong—the miniscule white corner of a folded note, revealed just barely out the creases of a sleeve; the discreet, sideward glance at another student's paper; the teacher half writing and half yawning at her desk…

He himself was tapping his pencil silently on the test papers, not at all concentrating on its completion. He was waiting for Mrs. Sauchler to notice him distracting everyone else—who really didn't care—and send him out of the classroom, send him to the office, suspend him and let him stay home. Ryou knew he all he really needed to do was cause a racket, but Mrs. Sauchler was a pregnant woman and he would do well to keep her baby out of his messes.

Finally, the bell rung; an eerie sounding toll. Three chimes, Ryou counted, though he knew it was the same number everyday. One for a child, two for a man, three for a woman, and four for the elderly. A short minute later, the bell rung once again—and only once, this time.

"Bakura-kun?"

The ending of a mother and a child. Ryou frowned, but despite that he felt faintly amused; it was as if the gods, or whoever controlled the system, knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Bakura-kun."

Ryou lifted his head. The frown was still etched onto his expression, though with features like his, he merely looked unwell—maybe a tinge upset. A looming shadow passed onto his blank paper, and he feigned a tired smile.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Sauchler asked, "class is over." She made a vague gesture towards the empty room, then turned back and regarded him with a stare.

Ryou's own stare was shy; indirect. "I'm sorry, Miss," he started, "I'm feeling faint."

It was the motherly instinct inside her, Ryou could tell. The one that told her to throw all risks away and at least pretend she didn't know Ryou was blatantly lying, that Ryou was merely trying to cover for not doing any work, so that she could sincerely tell him to go to the nurse's office, take a rest. Ryou liked her for that. Kind and gullible.

Next class was Mr. Anderson's. Ryou frowned deeply at the thought of him, glad he could skip it by faking sick this period. As he walked, he thought of how he would love to splatter the old fool's brains on the chalkboard that he so loved, crack his head against the corner of the desk, spill his brains and leave him dead on the floor. He knew it would be all too good for his experience, though—he would only feel a split second of sharp pain. A minute, at most, depending on how long it would take to grind his thick skull into the table. He would cut him open, show his disgusting organs to the world and spit on them, one by one—though, by then he'd already be dead… Ryou bit his lips, frowning; he needed to figure out a way to make him really _suffer_…

"Bakura-kun!"

Ryou turned. It was Yugi; his childish face and huge, unnerving eyes, staring up at him with happiness. Ryou'd would've sneered. It felt like Yugi was _mocking_ him by his mere presence, his joy when Ryou was feeling so angry. Ryou couldn't remember if Yugi was in his fantasy world, but now he felt like it would be better if he wasn't. No Yugi. No Yugi's friends, always shoving their happiness at his face, mocking his loneliness and sorrow…

The corners of Ryou's lips twitched upwards.

Yugi smiled back, completely unaware. "You almost hit the wall there. You're going to the nurse's office? Are you okay?"

Ryou's expression neutralized again, and slightly, he could feel a small pang of guilt. It would be nice, sometimes, to have someone worrying about him. He knew Yugi didn't mean to ridicule him, nor had he ever given the signal that he was upset…maybe Yugi could stay. Not his friends. Only Yugi…but Yugi without his fan club would be nothing. Ryou couldn't save him from the depression. Ryou wasn't enough. _Yugi_ wasn't enough for the perfection he strived for…

"Bakura-kun?"

Ryou forced a smile onto his lips—tilted his head, softened his gaze. "I guess I was just thinking too much," he explained. "I'm fine, Yugi, just a little faint."

Yugi nodded, wished him well, then went to class late. Ryou stepped into the nurse's office.

"How are you doing in your studies?" the nurse asked conversationally as she gathered up the tools. Ryou's brows furrowed slightly; he hated talking about studies, hated talking about work. In Ryou's world, there would be no school, just like any child's dream.

"Fine," he answered, if not generically, idly wondering if he should keep her. There were no nurses in his paradise; no need for them. No one getting hurt. Ryou held back a sigh, not foolish enough to believe or even temporarily assume that sickness won't randomly occur in the real world.

"That's good," the nurse replied unnecessarily, dismissively. The useless conversation had ended, and Ryou was glad for it.

When the check up was finished, Ryou went directly home. The nurse had found nothing wrong with him, of course, but with his sweet face and kind smile, who was she to deny him? Ryou felt a small pang of satisfaction from the control he'd subtly established; it would need to expand, he knew, if he were to murder a teacher.

Murder.

A fleeting, sincerely depressed frown crossed Ryou's expression briefly, an empty and painful wave rolling from his heart and up his throat. He would murder a mother and her unborn child, just like how his mother and sister were dead…

The feeling resided soon enough and left him with an empty ache that he ignored. That was different from what he was doing. He was killing for a good reason. A good-willed slaughter.

She would die on the twelfth of December, he decided; the full moon in a sky of falling snow. A beautiful day. Mrs. Sauchler was his favourite teacher—she deserved a nicer ending. She would die in her home, a suitable burial. He would first slit her throat, then spill her organs; he had to keep up the pattern, after all. He would kiss her womb with his blood splattered lips and bless her baby child a successful birth, hope that with his silent prayer it would have a chance to live. Ryou was a kind boy. Even though the child had never existed in his perfect world, it should not have been involved.

It was the night of that day when the snow had stopped falling and the moon had waned that Ryou could finally carry out his plan. A shame, he thought, but it had to be done today.

Ryou was only slightly guilty when he realized he'd stabbed the wrong part of her body—he'd aimed for the side of her stomach, but his hands had bought themselves into the head of the baby, and he'd had to wipe the brain matter on the torn flesh of her mangled stomach. That was just as well, though—he didn't want to create another parentless child. What he really should've been guilty about, though, was that he'd also slit the wrong part of her throat beforehand—her airy, choked gasp of pain was slightly louder than she should've been able to emit. When he left, he could still see the open shock on her widened, frightened eyes and the silent scream on her parted lips.

Ryou had left her body splayed half on the floor, her head lodged between the hard edge of her desk and the fallen cushion of her chair. She was a kind woman, but she was still a teacher. He had already given her the privilege of a relatively painless death—how much more leeway could he allow her?

-

The morning after, Ryou found himself paranoid.

He usually awoke with a good feeling after his many hours of sweet dreams. Each night, he'd dream of that amazing paradise, of his new, perfect life in that perfect world. His dreams had no time frame; all there was, was pure perfection. Everything he wanted, he had, all the love and happiness and family he'd been denied—his father would retire soon. His world would be completely when it happens. Come back on his last dig, exhausted but earned riches…

_Mrs. Sauchler's diamond wedding ring had an at least five karat frame; made of gold. Her earrings were made of gold as well. Her sunny yellow dress was torn along with her bloodied, mangled stomach—_

Ryou's breath hitched, and he nearly doubled over in his seat. There was a supply teacher today—he looked at Ryou with an annoyed, confused stare, wondering what was wrong with the students of his class.

"Sorry," Ryou managed. His voice cracked. It was the first time he'd spoken today.

The teacher nodded, turning back to the board Ryou never noticed he was writing on. Ryou gulped. He didn't understand. He'd felt completely fine yesterday, detached, almost. He'd been fine staring at her cold, limp body on the floor, her baby dead inside her. He hadn't seen it, though, merely scrapped it's barely formed _brain_ on the chunks of flesh out of her stomach—

Suddenly, he felt sick. How could he have been so calm yesterday? Mrs. Sauchler hadn't looked dead, if you only saw her face. Merely afraid. Had he caused that? Had he really killed her?

Only then did it dawn on him that he was in her classroom. In his seat, the wobbly chair he'd carelessly taken. He sat in the middle to see the board better—surrounded by every unsuspecting student. Completely, utterly trapped.

A cold chill ran through him. In his head, he could see the knife running across her throat, the way the choked scream made her flesh and veins press harder into the bloodied blade, her eyes open in such horror and pain, the baby dead in her stomach. She was such a motherly figure. And again, dead. Dead just like his mother when he'd stabbed the wrong place in her stomach, dead just like his sister when he looked at her young, blue-skinned face.

His mind kept on playing the images to him, wretched like a movie you couldn't stop. There was no one to turn to for his fears. No one that he hadn't at least indirectly _killed_, in some way.

Ryou Bakura was a good observer, but observing was all he could do.

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Dumb ending is dumb. Ah well, it's the prologue. This whole hypocritical feelings thing will be resolved later. Very much later, if I ever get to it. Bakura shall appear soon. Also! Chimes idea not mine, about the bell tolling thing. I saw it in another fic, some other number, but it was their idea. I completely forgot which fic it was, but it really fit there and I had to use it.

Anyone even slightly interested yet?


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